Enid Pic Novels & Stories

For some reason, Nina felt a little envious of her. "So, he used to be like that, huh? I want to see what he looked like before!" "You want to see it? I still have one photo from the school festival!" "Really? I want to see it!" "All right, just a minute okay?" Cindy took her cell phone out of her bag and searched for her childhood photo with Aiden. "This is the photo, apparently I still have it!" Cindy said while showing a photo on her cellphone screen. "Is this Aiden?" Ninawas completely shocked. She could hardly believe that the boy with the round face and chubby body was Aiden.

Sheila peeled off another pomelo segment and said, “I promised Grandma May that I’d visit her next time I’m off, chat with her, and take a look at Alex’s big house. “Then the following time, I’ll go on a road trip with her to enjoy the fall scenery. Aunt Enid, do you want to come along?” Her uncle and aunt exchanged glances. Then Enid smiled. “Sure! Let me know when you’re going. I’m cooped up in this clinic every day, and I’m about to go crazy. “I’ve wanted to go out for a while now. I see so many people posting about chrysanthemum exhibitions. I want to see those mountains full of red leaves. The photos people take are so beautiful!” There were also ginkgo trees, but in Wiltspoon, there we

“I swear it. Thank you, Billie. I won't let you down.” Dominic eventually goes back in to take a shower, and I go to the kitchen in search of the breakfast pastries I know were included in our giant order of food last night. I find Agnes prissily eating a jelly doughnut. Enid, fully dressed in retro loose pants and a tweed turtleneck, eats what looks like an egg white omelet with a knife and fork. Abby eyes them both from across the table, dressed in an oversized, off-the-shoulder Green Day tee and shorts. Her hair is a purple mauve color put up in a messy bun. She sees me come in and gives me an “oh thank God you're here” look. “Good morning, Miss Black,” Enid says. “How was the nesting roo

I turned to leave and nearly ran straight into the problem I was pretending I didn’t have. Enid stood at the edge of the workshop, grease-stained sleeves rolled up, dark hair tied back in a messy knot that always made something in my chest ache. Her eyes flicked from me to the guards, then back again. Slowly. Carefully. Like she was cataloging a crime scene. “Oh,” she said lightly. Too lightly. “Did I miss a memo? Or did my workshop suddenly become a royal vault?” I clenched my jaw. “It’s temporary.”